I walked with you
by Ki-Chan Riker
Summary: She Knew him. He was hers, just like she was his. And in his eyes held an oh so familiar gleam.


_**Clara/Bucky. A Barneswald Short**_

 _ **Once Upon a Dream**_

 _ **I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream**_

The dream was familiar. Clara Oswin Oswald had it for days. Something like that would freak a person out or at the very least start to seem weird. There was a man, tall strong looking. Kind unnaturally blue eyes stared into her's. He was dressed as a soldier, olive green uniform only enhancing his build. He had been tall and lean, wiry muscles underneath proving how long he worked to meagerly get by. His brimmed hat sat so cockily on his dark brown hair.

 _ **I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam.**_

Underneath the polished brim twinkled something the woman couldn't quite put his finger on. Laughter lines crinkled with his smile, making any proper woman swoon. But underneath those light emotions lurked something dark. He was afraid of the future, just like any good soldier did. The man wasn't going on the battlefield because he wanted to, but because he needed to. Because there were ones back home who couldn't fight, so the man went in their place.

 _ **And I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem**_

Clara knew that the man- the dream wasn't all that it seemed. The woman's best friend happened to be a 2 thousand year old alien with two hearts and called himself the Doctor. The things she had seen at his side only proved that statement even more. So why did Clara feel night after night that she knew the man? That he was important- so very important- to her?

 _ **But if I know you, I know what you'll do**_

So Clara let the dream come, night after night. Week after long week. If the man would only tell her what was going on, who he was. Clara could help him, know what to fix. But he never did. Night after night, it was pain filled eyes hidden underneath a cockily perched hat. The place was never the same.

Sometimes it was this loud bright, proud expo. Where wonders sat and marveled the world. A lean body wearing olive green dress uniform, proudly showing off Sergeant stripes on his sleeve. And her- always wearing a red dress with her hair curled over her shoulders, leaning on the man's arm. A Smug smile would sit on his handsome clean shaven face and awing, and then dancing and laughter.

Other times it was a camp made of mud covered tents and even dirtier men. Hunched shoulders, and hazy eyes. He wore a simple green shirt that once had fit, but now hung off his frame a little too much. Holes in seams were now present, along with a couple days' worth of stubble on his jaw. Brown combat pants tucked into boots with broken laces. A cut here and there on his face, and his hair a little longer. And Clara- her brown curls were tucked into a strict bun, a white nurse hat perched atop of them. A crisp white uniform covered her frame.

 _ **You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream**_

And then the dreams weren't the only place where Clara would see the Sergeant. Now he was a little more damaged. He no longer carried the brilliant smug smile or the laughter filled eyes. But because Clara knew him in her dreams, she wasn't afraid of the man. Not like so many others seemed to be. She knew him before when there was laughter and oohing and awing. And she knew him again when there was blood and dirt and unfocused eyes. So Clara's footsteps headed strong and sure towards the man with the gun, who everyone was fleeing from. The man loved her in the dreams, night after night- that easy way between two people who held each other's hearts. How could he be dangerous when she knew him? She knew that smug smile and unshaven jaw?

 _ **But if I know you, I know what you'll do**_

Clara Oswin Oswald was not a particularly daft person, nor was she always trying to do herself harm. But she _knew_ the man. They went dancing and they sat together under a mud covered tent, sharing warmth in an even muddier camp while the elements dumped buckets and the winds blew through everything. He was her Sergeant. A man that took her dancing and a man that tried to comfort her when she cried, because Clara knew that dreams never lasted.

 _ **You'll love me at once**_

So Clara stared into his eyes, now so dull and dim and empty. _How could such lifelike and alive eyes be so dull?_ She asked herself. He acted like he didn't even see her. Only glancing her way for such a short amount of time, but Clara shuddered at seeing his eyes. There was no cockiness, no smug lines. Even the laughter lines had softened, but Clara knew that somewhere he _loved_ her. Her Sergeant _had_ loved her once upon a dream, and would again. She was sure of it.

 _ **The way you did once upon a dream**_

Clara focused on what was here and now. The way his gaze was solely predator, the way his hips rolled as he sauntered with no fear. He was a tiger, a lion, a beast of the hunt. And she- she was nothing to him. But she had been. The woman wore a red dress, just like she did in the dream. Her hair wasn't curled neatly, done with hordes of bobby pins so that it stayed even after they danced. Her hair was longer now, and her warm brown eyes widened.

 _ **I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream**_

The man- her Sergeant, hesitated as she came closer to him. But he was no longer her Sergeant, now he was a Soldier of Winter. A ghost that would vanish before her eyes. His eyes briefly flashing with something as a red dress and brown hair came into his sight. Clara saw all of these, and pounced with what she could take. She called to him, the way her dream did so many times. She could only hope that he would react like he did before. Because she knew him. She walked with him, had danced with him, laughed and patched him up. She couldn't let all of that to waste, so she called to him.

 _ **I know you, that gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam**_

And the once familiar gleam in his lifelike and animated unnaturally blue eyes came to life again. They were no longer orbs of darkness and pain. Where a hat sat cockily, was now long loose dull hair around his face. But the gleam was familiar, oh so very familiar and that was all that Clara asked for. She didn't need the perfect olive uniform while they stood surrounded by wonders. She didn't need a man whose clothes hung off of him, surrounded by others of the same. In a place where you were always trying to get mud and dirt and other such things out of everything.

 _ **And I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem**_

The man before her wasn't the vision in her dream- a man proud of what he was. But she wasn't the girl in a white uniform. And that in itself was okay. Now they could be the Impossible Girl who traveled to extraordinary places and the Soldier, no longer cast into Winter's embrace.

 _ **But if I know you, I know what you'll do**_

Clara knew- knows him. And it wasn't just from her dreams. She knew that someday he would gain his smugly proud smirk and look down at her and tease her. Because he was her's. And she would be his as long as he would get that all so familiar a gleam in his eyes and talk to her.

 _ **You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream**_

Maybe Clara Oswin Oswald's best friend was a 2 thousand year old alien with two hearts and a blue police box that traveled time and space. Who called himself the Doctor, simply because he wanted to fix things and he only carried a simple sonic screwdriver to help him on that quest. And maybe the Soldier's best friend lay sleeping in the ice like Sleeping Beauty waiting for a day when the world needed a man with a shield to protect them **.** Who's everything was once too big for his tiny frail body, so James Buchanan 'call me Bucky, Doll' Barnes went in his place off to war. And maybe Clara thought herself crazy in the beginning when she dreamed of a man who was nearly a foot taller than her, but with laughing blue eyes. But they found each-other again. And they walked and danced again.

In the End, it really doesn't matter what happened to them. It only mattered that they loved eachother once again. Just like they did in her dreams, and Clara ever the optimist was happy.


End file.
